


Morning Magic

by dieinthylap



Category: Normal People (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:22:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28714956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dieinthylap/pseuds/dieinthylap
Summary: Marianne finds some confidence in self-pleasure. Connell walks in.
Relationships: Marianne Sheridan/Connell Waldron
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Morning Magic

My favorite part about sex with Connell is not our orgasm. It is the moment right before, when the lines of his body and mine become blurry and I know he knows exactly what I want, what I feel, without speaking. He’ll hover just above my mouth, lip quivering, as he slides in and out of me. Our eyes are always closed, but I can feel his breath and taste his sweat in the air. We enter a different universe then, on the edge of orgasm, knowing nothing but the warmth of our bodies. He is a part of me, and I am a part of him. I know him without speaking and I feel our hearts beating in the space between us, expanding and contracting as he rides on top of me.

I think of this scene, imagining his chain brushing against my collarbone, as I slither out of my underwear beneath the blankets. He’ll meet me here soon, in our bed, with tea and toast. The picture of his face is clear in my mind—light stubble and a thin nose that hints towards the ground when he’s shy. I have memorized his features, every part of his body, and now I want to memorize my own. I want to touch myself the way he touches me. 

I feel the tightly coiled bush of hair first. It is dense, but neat. I shaved last night in the bath, and the skin around it is smooth and welcoming. I circle a birthmark about the size and shape of my pinky on my inner thigh and shiver. Etched in my skin is an invisible memory of Connell’s fingers. I don’t know when that memory became a part of my body, but it has. Thinking of him sends a trickle of liquid down to my own fingertips, and I bite my lip. My index finger follows the trail of arousal and traces a circle around my opening. Then, still ever-so-slowly, I go up to that bundle of magic right… there. Little pressure, little circles. Behind closed lids, I watch his tongue: rough, and firm, and intuitive. I see myself spread eagle on the sheets, his eyes burning behind a camera lens, wanting me. I see his back in the pool, lit up golden by the sun, faint scratches from the night before on show. His breath on my neck, his hands on my waist, his lips on my stomach, his mouth on my pussy in a hot morning shower. I want to want myself the way he does. I want to understand that desire.

My fantasy forms a steady flow of electricity down my spine, shooting directly to the fingers circling my clit, gradually picking up speed. My hips rise and my head tilts back, invisible strings tugging my limbs in rhythmic ecstasy as my hand-woven pleasure builds. It’s so, so, so, good, and I’m right on the edge…

Way past the need for a fantasy, my glazed eyes slide open and catch Connell staring at me in the doorway. The hunger, the want… all there. Watching me. And I get it. I am magic to him. We lock eyes, and I slam two fingers into my pussy, curving them up to hit that wall of pleasure. I watch his dick harden beneath his PJs, and I go faster. My strokes become messy as the wave of pleasure takes over, and I watch him watch me as I cum.

**Author's Note:**

> I really tried to get into Marianne's head for this one-- I'd love feedback if anyone has any suggestions! I might make this a series, depends on what y'all think.


End file.
